


Bake and Chat with: Jack Zimmermann

by Threepinkpigs



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Jack and Shitty went to another university, M/M, youtuber!bitty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-06-07 18:19:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threepinkpigs/pseuds/Threepinkpigs
Summary: “Hey, Patric”, Eric said and held out his phone to his friend-turned-assistant as he was wrist-high in bread dough, “did you see this?”“Knight’s email?”, Patric answered, “Yeah, I saw that. Figured you’d be interested. Knight reps a lot of hockey players. Fair chance it’s one of them considering it would be this big thing if it came out. Fair chance it’s a man too.”or; The Providence Falconers' star forward comes out in a youtube video





	1. A Special Opportunity

From: bsknight@knightlegal.com  
To: business@checkplease.com

Dear Eric Bittle,  
My name is B. S. Knight and I am the agent of several professional athletes, one of whom is a big fan of your youtube channel and whose anonymity is required for the time being for reasons I hope will become clear. I am contacting you to see if you are interested in having this client as a guest in one of your videos, compensated of course.

My client is bisexual and currently in the closet. They wish to come out some time this year and would like to do so in an casual interview with you, if possible. My client is a well-respected athlete and their coming out would most likely be a large news story, which is why we want to do it in controlled forms and preferably with someone we trust to do a good job. Please reply within two weeks whether you are interested or not.

If you are interested, we will arrange a meeting with all necessary parties and let you get to know my client so that you can make appropriate preparations. The finished product will have to be screened by us before it is posted, but that is mostly a safety precaution and we will most likely not ask you to change anything. You will obviously be compensated, so please include your preferred fee with your answering email. If you are interested, you will also be asked to sign an NDA as my client’s anonymity needs to be ensured. You will be given this document in good time before the meeting so that you can go through it with your legal representative. I hope you will seriously consider having my client as a guest on your channel.

Thank you for your time and I hope we will have reason to correspond more. 

Best Wishes  
B. S. Knight  
Legal representative

Knight Legal Firm  
Violin St. 5b  
Box 53, 10001 New York  
tel: 212-555-0185


	2. A Reply

“Hey, Patric”, Eric said and held out his phone to his friend-turned-assistant as he was wrist-high in bread dough, “did you see this?”

“Knight’s email?”, Patric answered, “Yeah, I saw that. Figured you’d be interested. Knight reps a lot of hockey players. Fair chance it’s one of them considering it would be this big thing if it came out. Fair chance it’s a man too.” He started cutting up the dough to make bread buns. “Fair chance he's loaded.”

“That's not why we do this,” Eric scolded halfheartedly and then he went quiet for a minute. “Do you think I should do it?” he asked and leaned his back on the kitchen island, his elbows behind him on the counter. Patric gave a noncommittal noise as the only answer and Eric sighed and stayed in position for a minute, listening to the soft sound of buns forming under Patric’s less than expert hands.

“I guess I’ll have to reply,” he said, more to the universe than anything or anyone else, and pushed himself away from the island and started to walk out of the kitchen.

“Moral support, Bitty! Stay!” Patric exclaimed and looked back over his shoulder to see Eric back move further away.

“Now, I can give you one of those, not both. If you fail, then that’s because my instructions aren’t clear enough, and it has nothing to do with your baking abilities. Bye,” Eric replied and disappeared from the room, leaving a frustrated Patric groaning at the sticky dough. He took his laptop from his desk in the home office and sat down on the couch in the living room to start formulating his response. He’d come about halfway when Patric came out of the kitchen with considerably less dough on his hands than he’d had fifteen minutes ago. Eric raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s not supposed to take that long to make twenty buns,” he stated, “do I need to improve something?” Patric shook his head.

“They were just ugly. I re-rolled them until they didn’t have any wrinkles on them.” Patric walked around to the back of the couch and leaned over Eric’s shoulder to read what was on the screen. “Sweet, I’ll call Cam right away.” Eric leaned his head back and looked up at his friend. His brown hair had a thin dusting of flour by his temple, vaguely making him look older than 26.

“Cracks give them charm, honey. They’re not gonna taste any better if you roll them to perfection.” Patric gave him a look.

“That’s not how I work and you know that.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and left the room. When he came back twenty minutes later, Eric wasn’t much further in his reply. His fingers were drumming on the keyboard and yet no letters appeared on his screen. “Cam sent an email with dates in August and September where she’s free and could potentially get on a plane. I sent an email with dates in August and September where you, me and Cam are all free and could potentially get on a plane. Just copy-paste that and put it in your email saying they’re ‘preferred dates for meeting’. I’ll look over the email when you’re done.”

“At this rate I won’t be done until tomorrow,” Eric conceded and dramatically fell to the side. His laptop fell with him. “How do I even decide on a price when it's not a sponsor deal? What am I worth? What is my _brand_ worth? Does that even _matter_? Should I really charge for a poor man’s coming out video?” 

“Nothing about that man will be poor, trust me. Just put a base fee and then a price per hour? That's how normal stuff works,” Patric said.

“I guess,” Eric mumbled into the seat cushion.

“You need to be finished by the time my buns are finished, because after that? I’m going home and you’re not gonna see me for another week and then it’s basically too late, isn’t it?” Patric pointed out, and Eric groaned and sat up straight again. Patric’s phone started buzzing.

“Looks like my buns are done rising,” he informed, eyes teasing, “and if I recall correctly, they only need to be in the oven for 12 minutes. Chop chop, Bits.”  
The buns came out of the oven dry.

____~~~~~_ _ _ _

____From: business@checkplease.com  
To: bsknight@knightlegal.com_ _ _ _

____Dear Mr. Knight,  
Thank you for your offer. _ _ _ _

____I’m happy to hear that your client is a fan of mine, and I’d love to have them as a guest in a video. My compensation, depending on the amount of hours needed to prepare and edit the video, will land on somewhere between $800 and $900. I will send you an invoice when the work is done. These are my preferred dates for meeting the coming two months: 9th, 10th, 15th and 27th August as well as 17th, 18th and 19th September.  
Please choose a date and come back to me about time and place as well as the documents you promised. I will be bringing my assistant and my agent to the meeting. _ _ _ _

____Sincerely  
Eric Bittle._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Bitty's struggle with pricing the video also my struggle? maybe
> 
> What buns is Patric making? who knows, but he's testing recipes for Bitty's book, available for pre-order soon, apparently. 
> 
> Why is Camilla Collins Bitty's agent? life has a funny way of happening
> 
> Who is Patric? A guy from the swim team that Ransom and Holster tried to hook him up with during junior year and he's funny and smart and cute and 100 % friend material. He didn't know what to do after college and Bitty was in need of someone who could help him with filming and planning.


	3. A Plan

Eric hadn’t left New England after he graduated from college. When most other youtubers went to LA to pursue some sort of Hollywood career, Eric couldn’t. His favorite people were all here, save his mom of course. Lardo, Holster, Ransom were all in Boston, and Dex was back in Maine after a stint in Boston himself. Sure, Nursey lived in New York with Chowder as his roommate, but they were still relatively closeby.

Eric himself moved to Providence. He couldn’t stay at Samwell like some sad person who couldn’t leave his college glory days behind, and he couldn’t move back south and stay a mama’s boy constantly scrutinized by his relatives and neighbours. Boston might have been the better option if he really wanted to stay close to his friends, but Providence had lured him in for some unknown reason. He liked the feeling it gave him.

And he had a career, a career that was growing more accepted by the day. He employed an entire person now, had his own company, got sponsor deals, had a book coming out next year. And now he was going to interview this secret professional athlete about their sexuality. Things were going his way.

But sitting in a small conference room in New York together with Patric and Cam - his team - on either of his sides, another person’s agent and his secretary on the other side of the table, he didn’t really know what to do. As soon as he had signed the papers scattered in front of him, some unknown person would walk into the room and Eric would be directly responsible for the narrative of his coming out. His leg was bouncing while Cam discussed a few details of the NDA with Knight, who answered every question with grave professionalism, until Patric kicked his calf. Eric shot him an apologetic look and a smile, because leg bouncing annoyed him too. Cam gave Knight a final nod in agreement and went ahead to sign an NDA of her own, slightly different from the one Patric and Eric were signing.

As soon as Eric had signed and put the pen down on the table, Monique, Knight’s assistant, rose and left the room. She was back within the minute with a tall, dark-haired man with blue eyes and a stern look on his face, a man Eric recognized immediately. Eric stood up and extended his hand to greet him.

“Jack Zimmermann, as I live and breathe. It’s a pleasure. Eric Bittle.” he said and made sure that his handshake was firm but not too firm. “To think I’d ever see you off the ice.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jack replied and retrieved his hand momentarily, before extending it to both Cam and Patric, mumbling his name with every handshake. A quiet ensued as they all sat down again, and Eric had to break it.

“Now, Jack,” he started, “what do you want?”

“I’d-, uhm. Something lowkey,” Jack replied and twisted his hands and looked to Knight, who was leaning back on his chair and seemed pleased with the whole ordeal, “no titles like ‘Jack Zimmermann comes out’, nothing where that is the main thing? Just..” He trailed off.

“Do you want like a sit-down-y type of talk? Low lighting, a cup of tea, talking shallow and deep about life?” Eric suggested. “Those are nice to film. Low in effort, high in likeability. Or,” he continued when Jack started to look shifty, “we can do something scripted? They take more time and effort, but there is less pressure to say clever things and you only say exactly what you prepare to say.”

“Is it okay if we bake something?” Jack asked after a moment of thinking and looked at Eric again. Eric blinked.

“So you want to do an episode of Bake and Chat, basically.” Jack nodded. “Very well then. Then we don’t really need to plan that much. Just… What do you want to bake?” Eric had barely given Jack a breath to think about it before he changed his mind. “Actually, give it a think and come back to me. You have my email, and if you don’t, your agent does. Is there anything you have questions about?” Jack looked at Knight again, Knight raised an eyebrow and Jack shook his head.

“No,” he answered Eric, and Eric nodded.

“Well, you have my email if you do.”

“We’d like for this to happen soon,” Monique started and all eyes turned to her as she turned her laptop so that everyone could see, “these are all dates in September that Jack is available for filming. The rest of August is pretty busy so no dates there, but since you both live in Providence, I think it should be easy to agree on a day. We all want the video to be out before the season starts.” Eric tuned out as Patric and Monique decided on all things logistics and started watching instead.

He watched Jack’s blue eyes and concentrated eyebrows, he watched the few grey hairs in Knight’s mustache, Monique’s large biceps, Jack’s veiny forearms, Cam’s pearl earrings, Patric’s weirdly shaped birthmark, Jack’s blue eyes. He shouldn’t have, but he did, and before he knew it, before he got enough of Jack’s blue eyes, the meeting was over. They were on their way to the airport, back to Providence, and everything was set.

 

~~~~~~~

 

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: business@checkplease.com

 

Dear Eric,

Is it okay if we make a cake?

 

Yours,

Jack

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Shitty gets grey hairs early.


	4. Chapter 4

“Bitty!”

Eric heard so many noises at once that he couldn’t quite distinguish them. Footsteps, screaming, doors, a chair falling over, a somewhat excessive chanting of ‘Bitty’, and then he had a Patric in his face.

“He wrote ‘Yours’!”

“What?”

“Look!”

Now Eric had a phone in his face.

“I can’t see, what?”

“Take it!” Patric basically dropped the phone for Eric to catch and then he was at the other side of the room grinning. Eric read the email on the screen.

“So?” he asked.

“This means something, Bits!” Patric was everywhere.

“This means nothing. We don’t take advantage of kindness in this house, and this poor man is trying his damn hardest to be kind.”

“You’re a killjoy, Bits. You’re never gonna land a rich hubby this way. Let me reply.” Patric said, and reached for the phone.

“You see, people who didn’t know you would think you were serious. Don’t do anything stupid with my email. I swear, you’re worse than Chowder and Holster combined,” Eric said and pocketed it.

“Charmer”, Patric replied, “I’m gonna need that if you want me to actually do something. It’s called a work phone for a reason.”

“Fine, but hands off Jack.”

“Sure, after all, he’s ‘yours’."

“Leave this room immediately.”

 

~~~~~

From: business@checkplease.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

Hi, Jack,

Of course it is! Do you have a special cake in mind? Maybe a recipe you’d like to try? Any flavors you favor? 

Sincerely,

Eric

 

~~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: business@checkplease.com

 

Just a cake?

Yours,

Jack

 

~~~~~~~

Eric stared at his screen.

“This boy”, he whispered to himself and went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of hot chocolate, because lord knows it might still be warm out, but he needed it.

 

~~~~~~

From: business@checkplease.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

Jack, sweetheart. We can’t make “just a cake”. We have to make something special. But don’t you worry, I’ll figure something out. You will have your cake.

Sincerely,

Eric

 

~~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: business@checkplease.com

 

Ok. Can I bring my camera?

Yours,

Jack

 

~~~~~~

From: business@checkplease.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

Of course you can. Why you would is beyond me, I have cameras for days.

 

~~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: business@checkplease.com

 

I like to take photos.

 

~~~~~~

From: business@checkplease.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

You’re full of surprises, Mr. Zimmermann.

 

~~~~~~

From: brownepatric@gmail.com

To: business@checkplease.com

 

I can see you flirting. Maybe give him your number.

 

~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: business@checkplease.com

 

I can send you some photos if you don’t believe me.

 

~~~~~~~

From: business@checkplease.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

I’d love to see them, Jack. But send them to my private email address instead, this one is business after all. It’s bittleeric@gmail.com.

 

~~~~~~

From: brownepatric@gmail.com

To: business@checkplease.com

 

Weak, yet smooth.

 

~~~~~~~~~ 

From: bittleeric@gmail.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

These are all lovely, Jack! I particularly like the ones of your friends, good candid photos are hard to take. That’s why I like video more, I guess, haha. You can see the whole moment and there isn’t really a risk of losing it. Pictures are more fragile, I think.

 

~~~~~~

 

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: bittleeric@gmail.com

I understand what you mean. I have some videos too.

 

[Attached file: bbq_shitty_06-11-18.mpeg 19 MB]

 

~~~~~~~

From: bittleeric@gmail.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

I think every emotion ever was in that video, haha. Was that Knight behind the grill? Shirtless? And I didn’t know you knew Nursey! It’s a small world after all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: bittleeric@gmail.com

Yeah, Shitty will do that. He doesn’t like clothes. Nurse is more Shitty’s friend, they went to highschool together. How do you know him?

 

~~~~~~~

From: bittleeric@gmail.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

Shitty? Nursey and I played on the same team in college! We even lived together for two years. That boy appreciates his candles, let me tell you.

 

~~~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: bittleeric@gmail.com

 

Shitty doesn’t really like his name. Did you play hockey at Samwell? You beat us for the championship in 2016. That was some upset. That makes sense, he seems like a scent-y person.

 

~~~~~~

From: bittleeric@gmail.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

We sure did! Playing against you was something, alright.

But Jack, I was wondering. Would you like to stay for dinner afterwards? I figured since we have mutual friends and interests, we could have dinner and talk a bunch?

 

~~~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: bittleeric@gmail.com

 

Yes.

 

~~~~~~~

From: bittleeric@gmail.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

Great! Are you allergic to anything or have something that you absolutely can’t stand so that I know what to avoid?

 

~~~~~~~

From: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

To: bittleeric@gmail.com

 

Capers.

 

~~~~~~~

From: bittleeric@gmail.com

To: jl.zimmermann@gmail.com

 

No capers, noted! I’ll see you in a couple of days then.

 

~~~~~~~

Eric stepped into the home office a few days before the day Jack would come over to film with a blank expression on his face.

“Hold me,” he said and Patric got up from his place at the desk and hugged him, “he’s coming to dinner.”

“Now?” he replied.

“No, silly, he’s staying after we film the thing. We’ve been emailing for like weeks now, and honestly I don’t understand why we just didn’t exchange phone numbers and texted because our emails have essentially been texts, just with a massive delay. But we’ve been emailing and I asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner afterwards and he said yes and that he didn’t like capers,” Eric said into Patric’s shoulder.

“Why capers?”

“That’s not the point! The point is that he’s gonna be here and I’m gonna talk to him a bunch without video-me turned on and he’s gonna be here unprofessionally and, Patric. Patric. He’s so cute.” Eric tightened his grip around Patric.

“I have his number, you know,” Patric said.

“You do not.”

“I do.”

“Lies.” Eric’s hands found themselves under Patric’s shirt and pinched the skin on his back.

“Quit it. You could text him, you know,” Patric said.

“Never,” Eric said and looked up at Patric. Patric looked back down.

“I’m just saying.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Okay. But you have to let me go. I suddenly have to bake those vegan breakfast muffins from your cookbook, available for pre-order soon.” Patric let Eric go from his arms and Eric had to do the same.

“Help me figure out what to cook later.”

“I can do that.”

 

~~~~~~~

To: Jack

From: Eric

 

Hi, Jack, it’s me, Eric. I got your number from my assistant. Would you mind picking up some tomatoes on the way here? I completely forgot to buy some and they’re absolutely necessary for dinner tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that thing when you don't reply to emails until the day after you get the because you want to seem busy? Yeah, that. 
> 
> You know that thing when you don't drop the greeting or the sign off until the other person does? Yeah, that. 
> 
> You know that thing when you've known a guy for years and really get along with him but because he wasn't your friend first, you feel uncomfortable to call him a friend because it kind of feels like stealing your actual friend's friend? Yeah, that.
> 
> You know that thing when you project your vegan issues onto a completely unrelated fanfic? THAT


	5. A Visit

Eric’s doorbell went off and Patric went to open it. After some shuffling, rustling, and a mumbled ‘Nice to see you again’, Eric had a guest in his kitchen. The lights could wait.

“Hello, Jack, it’s so nice to have you here, let me take those,” Eric said and took the plastic bag with tomatoes from Jack’s hand and walked over to the counter, “Do you want coffee? Tea? A slice of pie? Or perhaps a cinnamon roll? Or do you want to get into filming immediately?”

“I’m-, do you have water?” Jack replied. Eric blinked.

“Of course, tap water is fine, right? I know so many people only drink bottled water and it makes me so upset because all of that plastic just ends up in the ocean and is of no good use to anybody, and it just tastes weird too. It really can’t be good for you to drink water that’s been still for so long, can it? That’s what the animals do in nature at least, you don’t see no deer drinking still water. I know lakes are considered still, but mind you, they always have an outlet. Water’s always coming and going from someplace or another. And all those bubbles just go straight up your nose too,” he said and twisted the plastic between his hands. Between one word and another, Patric had put a glass of water on the table in front of Jack and was now in the pantry searching for the cinnamon rolls.

“Eric,” Patric said. The cinnamon rolls were on the table now. “Coffee.”

“Right, obviously,” Eric replied and went to the pantry to find the bag of ground coffee.

“No, counter,” Patric said, and true enough, there it was. Patric keeps doing things that Eric doesn’t see.

“Right, obviously,” Eric replied and started to scoop coffee into the coffee machine. He took a breath. He smiled at Jack. “Sorry, I’m a bit stressed today.”

“It’s okay, I’m a bit nervous too,” Jack said, stoic and pretty as ever. Patric carried the conversation until the coffee was finished, and then Eric was guided to a chair and sat down in front of Jack.

“Are there a lot of things to set up?” Jack asked, pointing to the camera that was looking over the kitchen island.

“Well, there’s the camera, sometimes two if we want more than one angle. There’s a microphone, obviously, because the cameras have bad audio. And then there are the lights. Only one of them is up now, but we’ll put up the other two in a bit,” Patric replied, and Eric nodded along and systematically ate his cinnamon roll. There was a quiet. Eric couldn’t break it. Patric could, and did, and him and Jack talked more, and Eric took another cinnamon roll and drank his coffee and Jack drank his water and ate an entire cinnamon roll and Patric talked until he didn’t. Eric’s mug disappeared and so did Jack’s glass and everything in front of them. Eric felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Could you mount the light behind the camera so can I do the right one?” Patric said and Eric nodded and stood up. Jack was left sitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The video is taking longer than I thought to finish and so instead I'm giving you a shorter update while I try to figure out how to combine the start of the video with the end of the video. 
> 
> Also, you eat cinnamon rolls systematically because you want to eat the center last and that's a strong opinion I have despite disliking cinnamon and you can FIGHT me
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments, nothing has made me smile more this week than reading and responding to them.


	6. A Video

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Didn’t I tell y’all he was sweet?” Eric said to the camera. He poured some vanilla extract into the bowl and handed Jack a whisk. “Now whisk it.”
> 
> “I thought the show was called Bake and Chat for a reason, but you seem to only chat, Bittle,” Jack responded but took the whisk anyway.
> 
> “Oh, listen to you, finding your footing. I guess the sweet didn’t last long in this kitchen.”
> 
> “I don’t really need to be sweet here.”
> 
> “No, and just why is that, Jack?”, Eric asked. Jack didn’t reply.

When everything was set, it was time. Eric was in focus and the camera was recording.

“Hello and welcome, everybody, to your favorite series by yours truly: Bake and Chat. Today, we have a very special guest and y’all need to promise me to be kind to this poor soul in the comments, because he is the sweetest and shyest thing I’ve ever laid my sore eyes on. Introduce yourself, sweetheart,” he said, and Jack walked into the frame, staring at vlog-ready Eric, before turning to the camera. “Come on, now!”

“Ah, my name is Jack Zimmermann and I’m from Montreal,” he said, “I play for the Providence Falconers.” 

“That’s right, folks, a fellow hockey player. It’s been a while since I had one on here what with my former teammates having  _ lives _ and real jobs and all. So, tell me, Jack,” Eric said and turned to face Jack, “just what are we making today?”

“We’re making a cake.”

“A very  _ special _ cake, mind you,” Eric said, pointing to the camera, “and if you want to figure out what’s so very special about it, you’ll just have to wait a bit. But if you want to bake along, I will link the recipe in the description. Additionally, you will need pink and blue food coloring. Beware that this is a sweet recipe, which means that poor Jack here will only be able to eat a little, but he has a bunch of friends to share it with, so make sure that you do too!” Jack smiled until Eric handed him four eggs in a glass bowl. “Here, crack these.”

“What?”

“The show is called ‘Bake  _ and  _ Chat’ for a reason, mr. Zimmermann. You crack them the same way you crack them when you make omelets. Now, chop chop.” Jack obediently started cracking the eggs and Eric started talking again. “A little birdie whispered in my ear that you’re an  _ avid _ OMGCheckPlease fan, Jack. Why is that?”

“Haha, well,” Jack started, “I started watching because I needed to bake something for my mum and dad’s anniversary. So I found one of your videos and I subscribed and kept watching.” He took a jug of milk from Eric’s hands and poured it into the bowl when Eric gestured for him to do so. “So I liked the cooking part, I guess. I also don’t know a lot of LGBT people so hearing you talk about that stuff make my world a bit bigger. I learn stuff when I watch you.”

“Didn’t I tell y’all he was sweet?” Eric said to the camera. He poured some vanilla extract into the bowl and handed Jack a whisk. “Now whisk it.”

“I thought the show was called Bake and Chat for a reason, but you seem to only chat, Bittle,” Jack responded but took the whisk anyway. 

“Oh, listen to you, finding your footing. I guess the sweet didn’t last long in this kitchen.” 

“I don’t really need to be sweet here.”

“No, and just why is that, Jack?”, Eric asked. Jack didn’t reply. “Very well then, now we take the flour, the corn flour, the baking powder, the caster sugar and the salt and combine it in a bowl. Can you measure things?”

“I can measure things,” Jack said and looked into the camera. 

“Obviously you can’t, so I’ll just do that instead,” Eric said and poured the ingredients into the bowl and combined them. “Now we need to beat the butter into the dry ingredients, so I’m gonna go ahead and trust you with the electric whisk.”

“I’m honored,” Jack said and reached for it when Eric handed it to him. He turned it on in the air and slowly put it into the mixture and spread flour all over the kitchen island.

“Ah!” he shouted and turned it off.

“Jack! I can’t believe you!” Eric exclaimed, “Here you are, telling me that you’re a fan and that you watched a bunch of my videos and now you don’t know how to use an electric whisk.”

“I’ve never actually used one.”

“How so many people don’t know how to use one of the most basic kitchen tools is beyond me. Try again, but turn it on when it is inside the stuff in the bowl, and on a low speed,” Eric said with his hands in his hair and this time a minimal amount of flour found itself outside of the bowl. “Now let me do the rest”. He turned on autopilot and started talking instead of giving instructions. Somehow the cake ended up in the oven and they turned of the camera until it was out of the oven. 

“Do you want to talk about hockey while we do the buttercream?” Eric said once the camera was rolling again. They’d been talking about everything except that during the break. 

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jack replied. 

“Good, then it’s time to see if you’ve learned something from the last period,” Eric said and started to put butter into a bigger bowl, and proceeded to point to the electric whisk. “Beat it.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re really funny, Bittle?” Jack asked.

“Thank you very much, sweetheart, that truly means a lot coming from you,” Eric replied and rolled his eyes. “Beat it.” 

“I can’t believe there’s so much butter in this,” Jack said.

“It’s buttercream, Jack, and you didn’t exactly spoil me with recipes. Let me pour in the powder sugar now.” Eric said and small clouds escaped from the bowl as more and more sugar was worked into the butter. 

“Is it done now?” Jack asked after a while.

“Sure, could you divide it equally into the the bowls you brought?” Eric asked and Jack wordlessly did as told. Eric colored the buttercream pink, purple and blue, and let out a sigh. “Gosh, now comes the boring part.”

“You chose to do this,” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  Anyway, getting into the real stuff, what does hockey mean to you?” Eric asked.

“Oh, wow. Uhm, Everything, I guess.” He said as Eric started to decorate the cake. “It’s been my whole life and everything I am and have been able to do is because of hockey. I wouldn’t be standing here, for example, if I didn’t have it. Sure, winning mean a lot, but I honestly just want to play.”

“That was deeper than I was expecting.”

“Well, I’ve been through some hard times mentally, and being honest about the things that mean something to me helps a lot.” 

“Yeah, I get that,” Eric said moved on to the next color. “You said before that you don’t know a lot of LGBT people. That has to be one of the hardships, right?”

“I mean, yeah, it’s been hard. But that’s just been life, I think. I’ve been pretty sheltered for most of my life. It’s been hockey and team, mostly. No real room to get friends outside that sphere. No real room for dating either, especially not other men. I know my ex boyfriend, and now you, but that’s pretty much it. Most of my straight friends know and they’re supportive, but it’s just not the same.” 

“I’m sorry, Jack. I know how valuable it is to have a community of people that understands your struggles, and until I moved up north, I didn’t really have that either. But, Jack, do you know what?”

“What?”

“The cake is finished now. Do you want to show it to the viewers?”

“It’s the bi flag.” Jack said as he picked it up and smiled into the camera.

“Cut a piece and we’ll share it. Here,” Eric said and handed him a knife and a plate, “put the cake down.” Jack put the cake down as told, but walked off frame and returned with his camera. 

“Can I take a photo of you with the cake first?” he asked and Eric lost all mobility for a second before he returned to earth. 

“Of course, Jack, wait just a second.” Eric picked up the cake and held it in front of him so Jack could snap a picture, or maybe ten. Time didn’t always make sense.  

“Okay, I’m done,” Jack said, and Eric put down the cake. Jack cut up a piece and took a bite. He made a face. 

“It’s very sweet.”

“Yes, honey, that’s the point. But it’s good, right?” Eric asked and Jack nodded, “Great. Is there anything you want to say to the sweet people who are still watching?” 

“Ah, like, share and subscribe?” 

Eric laughed, and Jack continued. 

“Come to our games, they’re fun. Make sure you have good friends.”

“I couldn’t have ended it better myself, Mr. Zimmermann. Bye, y’all!”

“Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Has everyone forgotten about this yet? I haven't! 
> 
> Btw, here is the cake recipe I based it on! I just switched out the cream for buttercream because it's easier to spread and color so. https://www.recipetineats.com/vanilla-sponge-cake/
> 
> Also, if it isn't absolutely obvious, everything about the concept of this fic was taken from Daniel J Layton's Baking with Layton series and the whisking thing is a recurring feature in many of the videos but in particular this one (linking to the video in a playlist because why not) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkbLLv_aWXk&list=PLdwbb2IrEebUVRBC6QJTluR9R7wZUJ0Sm&index=8


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